


"Let Me Take You Home"

by leftrightleftrighthutpresentarms



Category: Simo Häyhä | The White Death - Fandom, Winter War - Fandom, Wolves of Karelia, talvisota - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Memories, Post-War, Simo Hayha, This is a fanfiction of that, Wishes, Wolves of Karelia - Freeform, i promise to write a good follow-up okay?, i read that story by Arna Bontemps Hemenway, it was amazing, some sweet but sad stuff, wounded soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29468535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftrightleftrighthutpresentarms/pseuds/leftrightleftrighthutpresentarms
Summary: After recovering as much as he can, Simo visits M in the military hospital. He remembers their memories, leaves this letter for M to read it when he wakes up, and goes away.
Relationships: Simo Häyhä | The White Death/M
Kudos: 2





	"Let Me Take You Home"

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wolves of Karelia](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/761274) by Arna Bontemps Hemenway. 



> Not written to disrespect Simo in any way, if you are somehow wondering! I am a huge fan of him. This is a fanfiction of a short story set in a universe that Simo has/had a male lover(?) called "M".  
> Also, I think it is pretty cute.  
> From Simo's perspective.

“Let me take you home.”

Home. Not any other home, but our home. Yes, our home. Even though we have never had a home, not separately and not together, our home. We can find a barrack, we can find a little house, just anything. It will be home, it will be our home. And you know this.

“Let me take you home,” I said, almost desperate, expecting an answer. Maybe not an answer, but a sound, at least a nod, maybe a shake of head. Nothing. “Let me…”

And I cut the sentence.

Our home.

I walked and walked. The snow, the trees, the wolves. The trails of animals, the trails of my footsteps on the snow. Snow, as bright as the sun itself, almost making me blind.

You knew snow so well. What if I had just held your hand and told you that we would take walks through snowy fields? Maybe you would have let me take you home then.

Our home, a home that never existed and never will, is the safe haven I have engraved in my mind. I have two safe-havens, one is under invasion now and the other is non-existent.

I bet you still think of your youth. We were laughing and you never hesitated to put your arm over my shoulder. You always made me cheerful, you always made me laugh. It was natural. We were alone. White, vast white. White of snow, the white that I got my nickname from. I became Death, but in your eyes, I was a little fox.

To be honest, the idea of being a little creature of nature was more appealing than being Death. Maybe that’s why I treasured it, lingered on every syllable, every letter of yours. “My little fox”.

I bet you still think of our youth. We had tons of worries but we were good. The unknown brought some kind of numbness to us, the lack of pain. Now we have lost those lands that we have frequented. I have lost my first safe haven. We almost both lost our lives. We have pain, not numbness, yet the way we shiver numbs it softly.

Let me take you home. Home, not just any home, our home.

We can have a little field. We can hunt still. We can warm by the fireplace on cold nights. You can call me your little fox once again. You can show me sunsets. We can make crowns from wildflowers.

Let me take you home. There is no home, but we can build it. It won’t be so hard, yeah, what is hard for us? We were a great duo, not great, we were a perfect duo. Under the sun, on the snow, days or nights, we held on.

Then, I can look at your face in white sheets and blankets, not snow. I can admire your sleepiness, your messy hair, your sleepy smile. I can whisper it: “Look at me. Look at me. Look at me.”

Let me take you home. Home will be our salvation, our warmth, our safety. With my desperate fingers, I will try to share with you any warmth I have.

What is hard for us, M? Nothing. Nothing, M, except when you turn away and don’t look into my eyes. I know that if we establish eye contact, we will not be able to break it ever again. Or else, we both will be broken into pieces, just like ice. I would still choose that over anything, though. I would do anything to see your eyes again. Even if they lack the lively stars in them, I still want to see your soul. Please, M, let me take you home.

Our home, M, our home. We can decorate it with carpets. With blankets that have fox patterns. We can laugh about those.

I can feel your heartbeats again. I can feel your stubble again, though it’s a beard now if you want to shave it I can even help you.

I missed the feeling of your arms embracing me. I missed the times that we fell on each other on snow, chuckling. I missed looking at the sky, watching the clouds. I missed the times you have pointed to the Northern Star, counting the constellations you know. I missed your smile. I missed you. I missed us.

We can still have it, M.

Let me take you home.

Turn around, M. I have seen tons of wolves. Can I see the eyes of the dearest wolf? Can I, M? Can I take my wolf home?

Let me take you home.

Because it is so tiring when I wake up to my own voice whispering your name. It is so tiring when there is no answer. It is so tiring when my arms long to hold you, but the space is empty. It is so tiring when I can’t say those out loud. It is even more tiring to imagine your reaction after reading all those -if you won’t put this in the trash without reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Will come back with part 2, I hope.


End file.
